“Hi, Sweetheart.” Fenton’s cheerful voice leapt from the telephone earpiece “Sorry to interrupt your writing time but I need you to check something on my computer.” 

“Oh, Honey.” I only half faked a whine. 

Fenton is quite anal about his computer. He uses it to access the computer network of the hospital where he works. Most of the time he invokes the fear of God in me when I look at the thing. However, when he needs me to do something for him it’s, “Awww Honey, just do exactly what I say and there won’t be any problem.”

 I am much more computer proficient since starting my romance writing career ten years ago. Ten published books later, I have picked up some computer savvy by making all the mistakes at least once, and sometimes twice. 

“There’s a document named ‘Network Universe Review’, or something like that in the directory on my desktop named ‘Firewalls’. I need to know the name of the products the reviewer looked at.” 

As I searched the cluttered computer screen for the directory named ‘Firewalls’, I noticed one named ‘Personal Stuff’. 

After telling him what he needed to know and pressing the ‘Call End’ button on the cordless phone, a tiny voice inside me pushed me to open the ‘Personal Stuff’ folder and peek. 

I walked away from Fenton’s desk and walked back three times before double clicking the folder and seeing the icons inside. 

Fenton and I have been married for twenty-one years. We’ve worked hard at having a marriage built on trust. It’s not that we share everything with each other. We both have our private spaces and thoughts where the other does not invade. But for most things, it’s open and honest. It works well for us. 

We don’t lie to each other but sometimes, well, we don’t tell the whole truth. We’ve turned it into a kind of a game. For example, Fenton will ask, “How much did those shoes cost, Sweetheart?” 

I’ll say, “Guess.” 

“One hundred twenty dollars.” 

“Yep,” I’ll say and leave it at that. Of course, they cost one hundred twenty dollars apiece, but I didn’t lie. 

We’ve had our ups and downs but it’s mostly been, and currently is, an ‘up’. Fenton has his successful career at the hospital and I decided to chuck the corporate grind and write full-time seven years ago or so. 

Our sons, Frank and Joe are both off at the University of Michigan. They excel in the engineering school there; Frank in chemical engineering, Joe in aeronautical engineering.

 Fenton and I felt a kind of loss of direction when we found ourselves alone. It was rough for a while; anger flared and tears flowed. It took some time and some patience but we met this challenge too, working it out together. We have grown closer than we ever have been. Fenton is my friend and I love him very much. 

However, love and friendship aren’t strong enough to dam the river of my curiosity when it starts raging. Someday I may be the perfect wife, but until then I’m snooping. 

The folder ‘Personal Stuff’ had several folders beneath it: ‘Resume’, ‘Taxes’, ‘Insurance’. One folder in particular piqued my curiosity. It was named ‘Rope’. 

‘Rope’ was an odd name for a folder. We have some rope in the back of the Honda for tying stuff down on the way home from the Home Depot but no other rope that I could think of. Why a folder named ‘Rope’? 

There were several files in the folder. Some .zip, some .jpg, and lots of files ending with .wmv. Each file started with a woman’s name followed by a number. 

To say I was shocked would be an understatement of great magnitude. I didn’t know what .wmv files were but I recognized women’s names. I double clicked the one named Kally.